


brandon

by luxiang



Series: change my mind [1]
Category: Grey's Anatomy, Grey's Anatomy RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 00:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17436512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxiang/pseuds/luxiang
Summary: He looks at him, stares into those eyes that hold the depths of undeniable innocence, and he knows as clear as day, as clear as it will ever be, that his heart was only meant for him. And those years of pain and loathing that carved him into a statue built of stone, had only been conquered once it faced the novelty Levi brought with him, its surface having been penetrated when its fortresses surrendered without Nico ever knowing they had been built.





	brandon

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said, "An ex visiting Nico!"

“Brandon?” Nico gawks. “What are you doing here?” he stammers, his expression incredulous.

The man that stands before him, a remnant of Nico’s past, shimmers in the early morning light as he stutters to offer an explanation for his sudden, unexpected appearance on the young surgeon’s doorstep. He’s dressed in a pale blue button-up, dark jeans, and _Sperry’s_ sneakers complete with dark amber frames that sit perched upon his nose. He’s young and lean, an image removed from an era akin to that of a young Marlon Brando.

“Well, I—“ he speaks, his words tumbling from his lips as they overlap into non-sensible syllables.

“Okay,” Nico sighs. “Iust—come in, come in.” he says, gesturing into the room behind him. The man smiles softly and utters quiet gratitude as he silently follows him into the kitchen.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Nico offers, making for the pitcher of orange juice sitting atop the counter, but Brandon only waves the offer aside.

“Okay.” Nico heaves a deep sigh, spinning back around. “Why are you here?” he repeats, leaning forwards, his palms spread wide on the kitchen counter.

Brandon stands there in silence, blinking up at the older man. Eventually, he moves away from the surfacetop and draws in a deep breath.

“I miss you.” he exhales. “I miss you. I miss you.” he says once again, if not for Nico’s sake but for his own conscience at the thought that his displaced presence makes all of this suddenly very, very _real._

Nico only turns away, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Brandon…” he starts.

“And I know, I know. Okay? I know.” Brandon reaches, pleading for Nico to give him just one chance. “We tore ourselves to pieces wanting to repair a hopeless case. But—I’m here now. I’m here. We can make this work, we can—”

“Brandon,” Nico interjects, “We chose to walk away nearly five years ago. Now, you’re, what—asking me to give this another chance?” He says, leaning into Brandon’s space. The younger man faces Nico desperately, his brows furrowed in anguish. Nico pauses with bated breath, seeing past Brandon’s insincerity in his resolve to pick apart every one of the complexities he had assembled around himself. “What is this really about?” Nico presses.

They stare at each other for a moment longer, neither willing to concede until Brandon takes a step back, dejected. “I don’t know, Nico,” he relents. “I don’t, I just—I feel like all I’ve been doing lately is chasing something I can’t comprehend anymore. Like—Like every experience I’ve ever had have all been for nothing.”

He’s pacing across the kitchen floor now, staring into some abstract, faraway distance. “I miss the way it used to be,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

Nico releases another sigh and maneuvers himself to stand in front of him. “We had our chance. We had our chance, and we ran ourselves to the brink of desperation because we wanted what we had for all of the wrong reasons. Don’t you remember?” He pauses, his eyes flitting back and forth, reading the expression on Brandon’s face. “We hurt each other. We hurt, and we break and we damage everything we build up. We aren’t good for each other. And we need to find peace in that because every time we crawl back together we find a way to tear each other apart again.”

Nico releases another breath through his nose, bringing his hands to rest on Brandon’s shoulders. “We sought comfort in each other because we were too afraid of the world. So we found our own solace and when that wasn’t enough, we chose to walk away. We need to walk away.” he finishes, defiantly.

The two are left gaping at one another, both at a loss for words. As he looks him in the eye, Nico can’t help but notice the way he’s aged since the last time the two had faced each other, all those years ago. His eyes crinkle, different from the way he remembers, worn down, as if time had not been kind to him. He wonders of the paths Brandon has travelled, the people and the places that had taken part. The sentiment brings with it a feeling of regret, of what could have been, what _they_ could have been.

Still, Nico finds himself grappling to force him to understand, the man who had once been everything he had ever held close to him.

He watches as Brandon slowly concedes to the revelation, a look of acceptance falling across his face. For a long time, the two stand in Nico’s kitchen, alone, accepting what had always been inevitable. As they bid goodbye, Nico watches as the man, who at once was the center of everything, walks out the door _again_. And the memory, an unfamiliar sense of _deja-vu_ rushes over him, until he feels himself drowning, suffocating in the years of heartbreak that invade his every sense until he’s lost in the emotions he resents knowing he feels. They serve as a reminder, a scar, of all he had lost, the battles he had endured.

—

Later that night, Levi finds him hunched over the dining room table.

“Hey.” he greets, dropping his keys by the door. “What’s wrong?”

Nico looks up at him, a hand scrunching over his face.

“Brandon came and visited me this morning.” he admits, letting his hand drop in defeat. He looks drained, like he had just worked a 24-hour shift in the E.R.

“Why?” Levi asks, approaching the table.

Nico scoffs, “I don’t even know. He was on some tangent about his life losing its meaning, how he wanted to go back to the way it was. I don’t know.” he shakes his head. Levi takes his hands in his, rubbing comforting circles into tired bones.

“What did you say to him?”

“I shut him down. I mean, what else was I supposed to do?” Nico shrugs. “He—He was just here, chasing after something that isn’t real anymore. He needs to find something real.”

Nico tips his head back then, breathing towards the ceiling. “I don’t think—we were never real. What we had, it was never real. We loved each other out of necessity. Because we had too. Not because we meant it.”

“I mean it.” Levi confesses to him in a small voice. He looks up at Nico, peers at him through his lashes, because for the first time in his life he had found something genuine. Something real, something raw, something worthwhile. When he watches the smile spread across Nico’s face, he smiles too.

“I know. I know.” Nico nods. And for the first time that day, Nico feels content, secure, the way Levi always makes him feel. He looks at him, stares into those eyes that hold the depths of undeniable innocence, and he knows as clear as day, as clear as it will ever be, that his heart was only meant for him. And those years of pain and loathing that carved him into a statue built of stone, had only been conquered once it faced the novelty Levi brought with him, its surface having been penetrated when its fortresses surrendered without Nico ever knowing they had been built. He kisses him then, feels his lips glide against his, a symbol of something real manifesting between them, something absolute, an unspoken promise forming as they laughed and embraced and fell asleep in each other’s arms, content in where they would rest for all of eternity.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr at @schmicos!


End file.
